Category: unconditional love

Dancing With Bruises

Dancers are some of the most talented people I know. Their gracefulness is truly amazing. But a dancer’s training is far from easy. By choosing to become dancers they have made a decision to absorb the pain of the dance.

Their toes and feet are blistered and bruised–they take constant abuse. Some live with chronic tendonitis, and their feet bleed sometimes, pain is their constant companion, but you know what? They still choose to dance. It’s what they were born to do.

Two things to consider.

  • They choose to dance. Dancers must operate with an iron will and an elegant grace. I suppose that is why they can dance the way they do. They have painfully blended the two. We see the elegance, but don’t see the pain.
  • The scars and bruises often become “badges of honor.” They would rather dance in pain, than not dance at all.

I once heard a therapist describe depression as having a “mental bruise.” I think I understand this. 

As one prone to depression, I know what it is like to bury myself in my bed for weeks at a time. My own mental bruise was simply more than I could take. There was a sensation of sinking into blackness, a sense of total and complete despair. I felt lost and completely alone.

I prayed. I groaned, and I prayed again, and again.

My sense of being totally lost in sad, dark thoughts was beyond comprehension. Dear reader, this was something quite real, and you must become aware of these things. About 20% of people are diagnosed with depression sometime in their life.

Maybe some of your friends are suffering this way? It’s often hidden by a fake smile, but it’s there and you don’t even know it.

We would never say that diabetics are that way because of the enemy. The dark one will surely exploit it, but I think you give him far too much credit if you suggest he was able to initiate it. I don’t think Satan has the spiritual “voltage.” He often uses depression to “set his hooks” in a person.

I refuse to hide my mental bruises from those who share my pain. I will make the choice to dance. I’m bruised, but I will try to ignore the pain. God meets me with an extra helping of His grace and mercy. I want to exult in God, walk in His love, and “leaping with joy like calves let out to pasture.” (Malachi 4:2.)

“A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out, till he has brought justice through to victory.”

Isaiah 42:3

The great pastor/evangelist Charles Spurgeon once spoke about his own personal battle with depression:

 “I find myself frequently depressed – perhaps more so than any other person here. And I find no better cure for that depression than to trust in the Lord with all my heart, and seek to realize afresh the power of the peace-speaking blood of Jesus, and His infinite love in dying upon the cross to put away all my transgressions.”

Punched in the Face

Learning how to forgive

Once I was punched in the face while preaching. At the time I was an evangelist with SOS Ministries in 1987. I was leading a group to Haight/Ashbury St. in San Francisco. I remember it was really busy, and it was a good team, and they were excited to take their church to the streets.

Haight/Ashbury was the place the “summer of love” kicked off, it peaked in 1968. It has a certain sense of notoriety, and even in 1983 it still had a dubious reputation as a center of the counter-culture. “A cult a day is born in San Francisco,” a pastor friend once shared with me.

Normally the neighborhood where I took a team would direct me on how to preach. Tonight especially I focused on God’s love for sinful people.

That message seemed appropriate for this place, especially on this street. God loves these people very much.

A young man came forward. He told me that he was a backslidden Christian, and his father was an Assembly of God pastor. He had run away from home. Suddenly he began to weep. The entire team seemed to lean forward and I know they were praying earnestly for him. It seemed to me that he was teetering on the brink.

His punch however came unexpectedly.

His fist hit me square in the nose. My eyes began to water. Oddly enough he took a step back and began to really cry out. My team wasn’t quite sure how to respond, but I hoped they prayed even harder. I sort of gasped and tried to shake it off. Someone must have called the police.

The Holy Spirit was very much present, both convicting and comforting each of us.

One or two minutes went by and suddenly he stopped sobbing and he became really angry. He took a step and then tried to kick me in the stomach, but I dropped the mic and caught his foot. I was ready for him this time.

About 20 minutes went by before SFPD showed up and asked if I wanted to press charges. I thought for a bit, but deep down I knew that wasn’t the will of my Father. Maybe I should of, I don’t know. But I thought about my own sin and couldn’t judge no one.

The Father was reaching him while teaching me!

God loves His prodigal children very much, He understands the guilt and shame (and frustration) they feel. The Father however is always watching and waiting. He works through life’s circumstances to lead them home. Each belongs to Him. He continues far past what we think is possible. He will never give up.

“We know what real love is because Jesus gave up his life for us. So we also ought to give up our lives for our brothers and sisters.”

1 John 3:16

I suddenly saw a “wounded” brother, very confused and quite angry. Not with me, the team, or the music–but with God who created him, and died for him.

At that moment I just happened to be God’s love for this prodigal.

“How did Jesus expect His disciples to react under persecution? (In Matthew 5:12 He said), “Rejoice and be glad!” We are not to retaliate like an unbeliever, nor sulk like a child, nor lick our wound in self-pity like a dog, nor just grin a bear it like a Stoic, still less pretend we enjoy it like a masochist. What then? We are to rejoice as a Christian should and even “leap for joy” (Luke 6:23).”

     John Stott

To learn more about SOS Ministries, San Francisco and Berkeley, California.

Meet My Friend, Pain

I’ve gone through many awful things—stuff that should have destroyed me. Things so bitter and hard it’s a wonder that I’ve even survived. I’m not overstating and not melodramatic. I know that I’m still standing because of grace and mercy that God has given. 

The other day I stepped into a gym where a Church potluck was happening. Now I’ve been in constant pain for several months and it’s been terribly hard. Standing and waiting on the line to get shorter, I distinctly heard something that seemed to come out of the blue. 

“Pain is now your friend.” 

That thought definitely did NOT originate from me. Initially, it was absurd. Bizarre. I stood in that crowd, rocked by that idea, “pain is now your friend.” I can’t explain it, nor can I diminish it. Obviously, the idea was not conjured up or produced by my conjecture or reasoning. It is exactly what it is. 

A day later I came across this thought. 

“I have learned to kiss the wave that throws me against the rock of ages.” 

C.H. Spurgeon 

Can I kiss that wave? Can I discount all the difficulties that pain has caused in my life? Now I admit I had been praying quite earnestly for God to take me. That may be a shock to some, I know. But I’ve had enough of this misery. Enough! Bring me home. I’m so tired of this. 

What crushed me did not crush God’s purposes for me. 

Much could be said about this, but what could not destroy me needs to make me aware. I have been given a “hard” gift. I have endured much hurt. And even now, as I typed out this post, I still am in pain. Why? 

There is a definite purpose why. That pain is my friend, my companion. For how long, I do not know. But I do know that I will kiss that wave, for it presses me to my Savior. I cannot explain it, because it’s foolish and counterintuitive. I’m not trying to ignore its presence, nor am I trying to paint “a happy face” on it. 

“During this time now, we have troubles and pain. But I am sure that these troubles are not really very great. One day God will show us all the great things he has prepared for us. That will make the troubles that we have now seem very small.” 

Romans 8:18, RB 

Yes, dear one, pain is one of my best friends. Nothing else could have reached me, I needed some hard “medicine” because I could not understand this any other way. 

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.” 

2 Corinthians 1:4, ESV 

I think I now know why.

Some will not understand, that’s ok. I’m glad they don’t.

“Suffering is unbearable if you aren’t certain that God is for you and with you.”

Tim Keller

A Used Heroin Needle

Clarion Alley, 1987

I lived in the inner city of San Francisco from 1986-1989. I was a full-time missionary and lived in community called SOS. There were about 10 believers, and we were committed to doing high visibility evangelism, “taking the Church on the street.” We all lived in an old Victorian in the Mission district. 

I will not minimize the difficulty and danger of the streets combined with our ministry’s approach. Not only was it hard, but we also lived in a hard place. Our neighbors were heroin addicts, and we lived just a couple of doors down from the “largest lesbian rock-roll bar west of the Mississippi.”  

Directly behind our house was an alley that was as bad as you can imagine; addicts and winos had basically taken over. It was full of trash, feces, and urine. And in the hot summer it would make your eyes water. It really was awful. 

Please keep reading. 

One hot summer day I decided to clean up part of our alley. Armed with an old broom, laundry detergent, a hose (and courage) I headed out to scrub away. It took some doing; it was somewhat nauseating. 

I noticed a small hole in the corner of the wall. I reached in to discover a well-used heroin needle hidden inside. I ran that needle into my hand. 

I really didn’t think much about it at the time. 

About six months later I was in San Francisco General outpatient for AIDS testing. I had been terribly tired and had lost some weight. Perhaps I had been infected? It was funny but a part of all of this was having to sit in a circle with a dozen gay men being instructed about safe sex practices. (I remember bananas and condoms were used.) 

It was 1987, and AIDS testing was still primitive; it took 6 weeks for the results. 

That wait was a bit of a challenge. I cried out to the Lord many times. Since the symptoms got even worse, I started to think the worse. I was thinking, “was this considered martyrdom?” or “I can’t ask Lynn to marry me now.” (I had been thinking about this up to then.) 

I was positive that I had AIDS. 

About 20 years later I discovered I had contracted HCV, Hepatitis C. I had a good doctor who knew his stuff. Although my liver had been damaged by that point, he guided me through a maze of testing and found a new med that was supposed to have good results. It did, thank God. I had finally been cured. 

Lynnie and I were married on January 7, 1989. 

What can I say really? I know the Lord directly intervened. We returned to Alaska where I was asked to teach at the Alaska Bible Institute. I was able to draw on my many experiences with SOS in San Francisco to touch the hearts of young men and women going into ministry. 

Lynnie and I went on to pastor a Church in 2000. 

Only God can bring good out of something bad. 

“O Lord my God, I cried to You for help, and You have healed me.” 

Psalm 30:2 

“Christ is the Good Physician. There is no disease He cannot heal; no sin He cannot remove; no trouble He cannot help. He is the Balm of Gilead, the Great Physician who has never yet failed to heal all the spiritual maladies of every soul that has come unto Him in faith and prayer.” 

 James H. Aughey 

For info about SOS Ministries–sosmin.com